


How to Learn French (Lelouch Edition)

by WBAD_World



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Erotica, F/M, French Lelouch, Oral Sex, Romance, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:53:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26639128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WBAD_World/pseuds/WBAD_World
Summary: You want to learn how to speak French? Try Lelouch's methods! It's more fun, interactive, and you'll definitely learn a thing or two. Or at least... That's what C.C. would say after she went through his unorthodox program.
Relationships: C.C./Lelouch Lamperouge | Lelouch vi Britannia
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	How to Learn French (Lelouch Edition)

"Je vo… Jev-vou." Deep breaths. Inhale, exhale, try again… "Je voudrais reesir- réserver on- in- une."

"Je voudrais réserver une chambre double pour deux nuits, s'il-vous-plaît."

"Get out of here, and let me practice!"

C.C. practically demanded of her boyfriend, slamming two hands down on the pages of her French language textbook in outrage. She wanted to learn at her own pace, _damn it_! And Lamperouge was _not_ helping. She whirled around to see him hovering over her left shoulder, grinning at her sheepishly.

How long had he even been _standing there?_

Granted, she wouldn't even be learning French if it weren't for him. Ah, the things you did for love…

"I told you, you didn't have to." Lelouch smiled from across the room, busying himself with putting away groceries in the cupboards and kitchen cabinets. "Je parle anglais, if you haven't noticed."

"But I want to."

Sulkily, she stared at the accents and cedillas scattered across the page, stuck in familiar and unfamiliar words — all strung together to form a coherent sentence any French speaker could flawlessly understand. Although, she would have to confess that she didn't think it would be _this_ challenging in the beginning.

"Having second thoughts?" He skirted around the counter and placed himself next to her on the couch.

C.C. smirked. "A little… You know what they say about the French and the British."

Her boyfriend snorted, leisurely tracing patterns on the back of her hand. "But you're not British, belle fille." Fingers in her tresses, tucking a lock of green behind an ear just to lean in and whisper. "Tu es américaine."

Narrowed glimmering eyes smoldered in the morning light as the hand on her hair traveled lower and lower, letting the palm rest on the small of her back. The heat and the _meaning_ behind that touch alone made her toes curl in their slippers. Shivers raced down her spine — a telling sign of what could happen should she let him distract her.

"I don't think I want to learn French anymore if you're being like this." She lied through gritted teeth.

"Oh?" Raising an eyebrow, the hand on her back slipped underneath her shirt. "I might be able to convince you otherwise. It's a rather lovely language. For example, j'adore ton sourire."

Words you could _feel_ were real, especially when the speaker was busy murmuring it straight into your ear — letting the perfect accent and every syllable pour over her like warm honey. His hot breath on her skin invited raised hairs and pleasant shivers, lips nudging the shell of her ear ever so slightly.

Mortified but blushing horribly because of his proximity, she cautiously wet her lips and muttered, "What does it mean?"

"I love your smile."

If the sly smirk wasn't clue enough, the cheeky grin that followed was. And she would have turned away in perfect embarrassment if he had let her. Instead, he took what she wanted to deny, and stole a brief yet sweet kiss from her lips. A kiss that, in spite of its short length, invited her to pull her knees up on the couch and curl up against him.

The shared kiss ended and continued down to her neck, where she instinctively tilted her head back and slightly to the side to give him as much access as he wanted.

"Je te trouve belle, ma jolie fille."

_(I find you beautiful, my lovely girl.)_

The hand on her bare back traveled to the clasp of her bra as his other hand stroked small circles close to her inner thighs, where her shorts ended. His hands were warm, his touch incredibly enticing. Her heart picked up considerably as his actions and his whispered words stirred _something_ wanton between her legs.

Lelouch smiled against her collarbone as he felt her back stiffen, and spoke again, timbered voice caressing soft skin, "Je te veux, ma chèrie. Tu es une allumeuse, mais tu es à moi, à moi seul."

_(I want you, my darling. You're a tease, but you're mine, only mine.)_

"Lelouch…"

"Tu es à moi pour toujours…" Gentle fingers cupped her chin as he nuzzled her cheek, watching her face through heavily-lidded eyes. "Mine forever."

Yes… Yes, she was his. Yes, he could have her. She affirmed as much before initiating another sultry kiss, her own fingers and hands wandering towards the buttons on his shirt. Releasing them one by one, her fingers dragged along a smooth chest. Her own brand of revenge after he took the liberty of unbuttoning and unzipping the fly on her jean shorts.

"Touch me…" She murmured, catching her bottom lip with her teeth, because _gods_ , she shouldn't have to _beg_.

Still, the ache between her legs was real and so was her wild wanting. She didn't know how he'd managed it, how he'd made her so horny with kisses and touches and his _damn_ French accent. She didn't even know what he was saying! Now all _she_ could think of was touching him in places _she_ alone had the access to — wanted and hungered for tasting his skin, his lips, maybe even hear him moan after she would pleasure him with her tongue and her hand, just the way he liked it.

"Bien sûr, jolie fille."

_(Of course, lovely girl.)_

His hand crept lower and lower — doing it slowly, deliberately _teasing her_. The thrill of anticipation made him tremble. His other hand slid past the barrier of her bra and kneaded one of her breasts, teasing and fingering the pert nipples that poked at the inside of her shirt. She almost sagged with relief in his arms, parting her thighs just a little more. He rubbed her through her panties, dragging his finger in lazy circular motions that _barely_ satisfied her at all.

"S-sil v-vous plaît, Lelouch." She stammered through the elaborate word for 'please,' watching her lover's face with a plea in her eyes. He shouldn't make her suffer like this — not when _he_ was solely responsible for making her this way.

Sex wasn't supposed to be on the agenda today… But it looked like both of their day's schedules are suddenly cleared. It would have to be if he kept _this_ up.

"I didn't know you could say 'please', Cera," he teased — the lecherous cad. At her glare, he leaned in again and peppered sweet kisses across her face. "Mais bien sûr, since you asked so _nicely_."

She didn't have time to regret her adventurous stab at _trying_ to make him pick up the pace. His lips lingered at the curve of her jaw, nipping at the sensitive spots he already knew, and was incredibly pleased with himself when the first of many mewls escaped the lips he loved to kiss.

Her evident lust feeding his own, he _finally_ pushed the bridge of her panties aside and touched her where she _wanted_ him to touch her. He slid his finger lightly along her slit, syncing the movement of his hand on her nethers with the task of his other hand on her breasts. Thighs twitching, she groaned and writhed a little in his arms, which made him laugh slightly. Pressing harder, the tip of his middle finger dipped shallowly into her, daubing in her slick wetness.

Her mouth fell open as she released a sexy little sigh. Praising her for the vocal expression of her pleasure, he kissed her ear and pushed the rest of her shirt higher on her body, letting it bunch on top of her breasts. Her own hand pulled her bra off, the hindering underwear discarded to the floor completely forgotten as she hungered for equal stimulation.

Her obvious arousal fueled his own as well — the rising bulge on his unbuttoned pants was evidence enough.

She gasped as his lips closed around a _very_ erect nipple, suckling on her pink areola like a baby. One hand on the other breast and the other stimulated her down below. Her pussy welcomed the intrusion of his two fingers rather easily, and the walls pressed and churned on his digits as he touched her just the way she liked it — the heel of his palm massaging her clit.

"Oh, yes… Yes, Lelouch." She hummed and sighed, gasped and moaned as she pushed herself against his fingers, even closer to his mouth and his hands — his body.

Releasing her breast with an obscenely wet pop, he licked his lips and kissed her cheek, speaking the words into her skin. "Tu es belle, ma chèrie. Parfaite. Exquise… Et tu es à moi."

_(You're beautiful, my darling. Perfect. Exquisite… And you're mine.)_

Two fingers became three and they pressed up against her inner walls, pulling back just enough to let his thumb circle her clit in lovely tandem with the pulsing inside her. Closing her eyes tightly, her breath quickened as another powerful shudder ripped through her. And she did her best — _did her best_ to suppress a _very_ scandalous moan building at the back of her throat.

Smiling against her temple, he picked up his pace and fucked her with his fingers, sliding in and out flawlessly.

"Mmmhh… Nghh~ Aah! Lelouch…"

Pleased with the vocal expression of her feelings, he kissed the corner of her mouth and nuzzled her cheek, gently kneading a breast while he slowed the pace, delighting in watching her come down from the high he'd given her.

"Très bon, jolie fille. _Très_ bon. J'aime ta voix…"

_(Very good, lovely girl. Very good. I love your voice…)_

C.C. peeled her eyes open after what seemed like ages (in what was actually just a few short minutes) and gazed at his ridiculously attractive but incredibly smug face. He was probably feeling immensely proud of himself, wasn't he? For making her come? For reducing her to putty in his devious hands…

"Enjoyed yourself?" He smirked as he languorously withdrew his hand and his fingers from her delightfully tight center, lowering his face to suckle on a nipple. The suction was hot and wet, and _very_ distracting. "Learning a language should be fun after all."

Another treacherous shiver skittered down her her spine as he blew warm air on the freshly teased breast.

"Not quite." She insisted as she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought his face up for a soft kiss, one he returned with equal enthusiasm.

He smiled at her gesture. But still frustrated with growing lust, she huffed and pushed him back, deliberately pressing her practically naked body against his current state of undress. Undone shirt and unbuttoned pants were not going to be enough.

"But I have developed a _renewed curiosity._ " The knowing glint in her gorgeous eyes summoned a devilish smirk from his enticing lips.

Giving in, they kiss. Lips fusing and tongues twining erotically as hands wandered across supple flesh and lean muscle. He didn't protest or fight her advance as he complied with her nonverbal wishes and reclined against the pillows. It was his turn to shiver with anticipation as her slender fingers wandered to the band of his boxers, drifting lower to palm and stroke a hardening cock through the fabric.

A string of saliva connected their lips as they parted with a wet smack, hot breath lingering between them, eyes heavily lidded. She nuzzled his nose affectionately, tracing his cheek and the shape of his face with her fingers.

"Won't you indulge and instruct me in _proper_ French discourse, Monsieur Lamperouge?"

"Tout le plaisir était pour moi." He poured the words on her lips, his hands wandering across her soft curves and over her adorable rump — giving each cheek a tight little squeeze that made her back arch.

She had _zero_ inkling about what he meant, even as his fingers wound in her hair and his knee brushed her center between her legs. If that was any indication, then his answer was by no means a _non_.

Grinning cattily at him, she wasted no time slipping his pants and his boxers off, thumbs and fingers stroking and circling along his inner thighs — the backs of her nails brushing sensitive testicles. His cock twitched when she wrapped her fingers around him, rolling her wrist as she pumped up and down — distracting and pleasuring him in ways that made him refuse to take his eyes off of her.

"T'es trop belle."

He proclaimed reverently, threading his fingers through her hair, tucking pesky locks of green behind an ear to reveal her face and her sultry gaze. She was beautiful… So so beautiful. He told her so in this moment, because it was the truth. Not solely because of sex, but in every way as well.

"T'es trop belle, ma déesse. Belle déesse. Je veux faire des cochonneries avec toi— Ngh!" Chest heaving with shallow breaths, he grit his teeth and met her smug stare.

_(You're so beautiful, my goddess. Beautiful goddess. I want to do dirty things to you.)_

She didn't know what he was saying, but all the same, she generously lathered his cock with her spit. Nudging that certain spot below the head, twirling the oral muscle around and around just to hear his breath hitch and feel his body tighten. His fingers dug in her hair, toeing the precarious line between tugging and stroking.

He _loved_ this, didn't he?

She would take his crumpled and pleasured face as a _oui!_

"Oh, Cera…" Hips bucked unintentionally, pushing his cock into her mouth some more.

She gasped as he sheepishly murmured, ' _Pardon, mon amour,'_ and eased him out of her mouth. But her response was to push his cock between her plump breasts, sliding him in and out seamlessly. Her saliva and his own precum aiding the glide of their flesh against each other.

"Ngh~ Ah! Oh, _fuck_."

There was something quite deliciously naughty about watching her toying with him. The pleasure made it overly tempting to just let his eyes close and _feel_ her touch and her mouth on him, but he wanted to see this _more_. Wanted to watch her slip his cock into her mouth — poking past her breasts, her full and kiss-swollen lips wrapped around his shaft, tongue gliding from base to tip. Twas a lovely visual that came with the sensation of a warm, writhing, and devious tongue, lathering his cock with spit and lapping up drops of precum at the same time.

Throbbing and twitching, the length of his erection rested heavily on her tongue, leaking precum she oddly savored. He felt hot pushed up against her chest like this, and more than that, she _loved_ his face — loved watching his pleased expressions and adored his voice, hitching and breaking — _sighing_ — as he surrendered to her ministrations.

"Cera, I-I… Aahh!"

He came in her mouth, legs trembling, eyebrows drawn in utter pleasure. He shuddered once, twice, before he stilled completely. His cock bobbed, spurting leftover semen on her chin and across her lips. Smirking victoriously, she freed his penis from her breasts and gave the tip an indulgent kiss.

Mind still hazy with leftover pleasure, he barely registered her crawling on top of him. They kissed again. His lips were pliant as they parted underneath hers, tasting himself in her tongue. The very thought invited blood to rush south, maybe even more as she parked her dripping slit on top of his half-hard cock.

They shared smiles, and she nuzzled his nose again. "I should you blow you more often."

He chuckled at her joke. _As if_ she didn't do it nearly enough already. They enjoyed sex as a couple, and wasn't _this_ proof enough?

Frowning, he fingered the hem of her bunched up shirt as he leaned closer, nipped her earlobe, and breathed the sultry language that was the very cause and the center of their current sexcapade.

"J'aime ce que tu portes mais je pense que ça serait plus joli par terre."

In typical C.C. fashion, she just cocked an eyebrow at him, pretending as if the pink flush on her cheeks weren't real. She would _never_ admit how sexy the words sounded when he spoke them to her — every syllable rolling off the tongue. Hers was a gesture he answered with a simple smile as he reached for a stray lock and tucked it lovingly behind an ear.

"Take it off." He gladly translated in context, tugging at her shirt. "Je te veux nue. Dans mon lit. Sur mon cannapé. Partout…"

_(I want you naked. In my bed. On the couch… Everywhere.)_

She complied with his demands as he beguiled her with his native tongue — even went so far as to give him a mini strip-tease show. He couldn't take his eyes off of her regardless. So he watched her lithe nudity on display as she stayed on top of him and discarded her last article of clothing dramatically, pitching it across their living room. She shivered with anticipation yet again as his hands slid up her abdomen and cupped her breasts, pressing his thumbs on her nipples.

"Lelouch~" She sighed, lowering herself onto his crotch — hands braced on his thighs — where she undulated her hips and began humping him; deliberately teasing the both of them in plenty of delightful ways.

"Ton corps est une merveille, ma chèrie. T'est trop belle, trop sexy. J'ai vraiment envie de toi."

_(Your body is a wonderland, my darling. You're so beautiful, so hot. I really want you.)_

He whispered his compliments reverently, bucking his hips in time with hers. From her breasts, his touch wandered and traced over the sinful curve of her waist and hips, finding a place in the soft globes of her derriere where he aided her movement.

"Lelouch… Inside me. _Please_." She bit her lip and pleaded, pushing her hips back to let the head of his weeping cock sink in a tiny bit.

Gripping her hips, he acknowledged her request and helped her onto his cock. He slid in without hindrance or a cry of discomfort. It was naught but fresh lubrication, hot friction, and the overwhelming feeling of being _inside_ her. Just like the first time. Maybe he would never even get used to this.

Echoing his sentiments, she released a long and drawn out _sigh_. He stretched her good and just right. They'd fucked so many times, he already knew her body so well — knew which angle to tackle and the sweet spot that would get her toes to curl, her back to arch, and her voice to rise.

"Oh yeeess~ Ahh~ It's so good."

" _Fuck_. Aah~ Comme ça. C'est trop bon. Trop bon." _Just like that… It's so good. So good._

"Yes, _fuck…_ Lelouch."

"Baise-moi…" He purred in her ear, sending delicious shivers across her body as his fingers dug onto her hips. "Say it, mon amoureux. Baise-moi."

Suddenly shy, an adorable flush lit up her cheeks — a reaction that coaxed a smile. She didn't know what the words _meant_ , and gods it was _embarrassing_. Burying her face on his shoulder, she idly pressed languid kisses on the crook of his neck. Straddling him, she continued the motion of her hips; an action he aided as he thrust upwards, treating the both of them to the squelch of their bodies coming together.

"W-what does it m-mea— Ah!" A delicious thrust made her back bow.

He rotated his hips slowly and minutely, indulging in the way her insides wrapped around him — reveled in her heat, fitting snugly. The motion sent her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she voiced her pleasure directly onto his ear, her hot breath raising the tiny hairs on his nape.

"Say it…"

"B-Baise m-moi— Ohhh~" A hot column of flesh, throbbing and twitching — maybe even rearing to release the second load that would paint her insides in his color.

"Très bon, mon amour." He managed through a drawn sigh while thrusting upwards. Her response was to grind down on him. "Say, 'Fais-moi l'amour'."

"Neeh~ Ah— F-fais moi l'a— ah— amour." A sharp gasp punctuated another mind-numbing thrust. His hands on the flesh of her derriere, lips and tongue busy mouthing alien words into her ear. "What did I just—"

Smooth velvety lips enveloped her own. Accepting, they indulged in a sensual kiss, moving against one another, working to reach the release and the pleasure they made each other crave.

"Fuck me…" He whispered the translation against her lips, bucking against her. "Make love to me."

With her lip between her teeth, she grinned at him wickedly and kissed the bridge of his nose as her hips continued bearing down on him, hungrily filling and stuffing herself with his cock.

"Baise moi, Lelouch… Fais m-moi l'amour."

"Oui, ma chèrie…" A kiss on her cheek, her nose, her chin. "Oui, mon amour."

He reached her lips and kissed her there feverishly, capsizing her over to the unoccupied side of the couch. Giggling at his actions, he shared in her smiles as he peppered kisses across her face, sucking on the pulse at her neck, wandering further to nip at her ear and collarbone. Hungrily, she reached between their bodies to guide his throbbing cock back into her warmth.

His shaft was slick, her lower lips were wet. And when he slid inside for the second time…

"Ohh~"

Overcome by the heat, the friction, the pleasure, the _intimacy_ , she tilted her head back and arched against his body, releasing a scandalous moan that ricocheted on the walls of their open-floor apartment. She threaded her fingers through his dark hair, telling him how good he was. He knew her sweet spot, and he kept hitting it — an invitation for her legs to wrap around his waist, heels pressing on his buttocks for encouragement.

"Plus fort? Plus vite? Plus profond?" _Harder? Faster? Deeper?_

The meaning of his words were _lost_ to her. She cared less. All that mattered was—

"Yes! Oh, Lelouch~ Yes, I— I— Ooohh~"

Sweat made their bodies a little sticky, though they hardly minded or noticed. Face crumpled up in pleasure, he panted his questions against her skin, hips driving forward — moving in and out seamlessly, straining for climax. She whined, he grunted. She panted, he released a lusty moan that made her skin tingle.

The tight coil finally unwound, aided by her fingers in his hair, and her inner walls churning and pressing tightly on his cock. His thrusts became deeper but slower. He listened to the music of her breath and her straining voice, communicating her pleasure and her satisfaction — reaching climax thanks to their shared stimulation. He reveled in her sexual rapture as the world behind his eyelids turned white.

Sweet sweet release…

Flesh gripping his throbbing cock, milking him for semen to spill in her warm and lovely cunt. He continued slowly rolling his hips, emptying himself into her welcoming depths — rope after rope of fresh sperm he deposited.

"Oh, it's so good." C.C. panted against his ear, slowly easing the pressure of her heels on his butt as she continued to stroke his hair and secretly delight in the feel of him spilling himself inside her. "It was quite the lecture, monsieur professeur."

A wheeze and a chuckle made his shoulders shake as he lifted himself off of her, settling on her other side so she was wedged between him and the back of the couch — that poor uncovered couch. Sweat and cum must be all over the throw pillows and the padding now, no thanks to their impromptu amorous tumble.

"And your learning?" He hummed, brushing fingertips along the length of her bare arm.

"Fais moi l'amour."

Feeling giddy and flooded with a rush from the invigorating afterglow, Lelouch shook with laughter at her nigh flawless pronunciation.

She shared his enthusiasm and kissed his cheek. Silly Lelouch. Why was he even laughing at her now when _he_ taught her that, albeit his methods were the definition of unorthodox?

"Is that all you remember when I _think_ I said so much?"

Smirking, she tilted her chin up and flashed him a haughty glance. "Baise moi."

Amused, the Frenchman shook his head and nuzzled her nose. "Should we do this more often?"

Her eyes widened at his implications and she promptly swatted his bare shoulder. Honestly, she didn't understand how easily she flustered whenever he went on to bedroom teasing.

He was still overflowing with mirth as he looked at their bright ceiling and the rays of sunlight streaked across it. In a voice filled with faux-wonder, he mused.

"I've given you somewhat of a French fetish, haven't I…?"

"Shut up, Lelouch."

C.C. deadpanned him and did her best to hide her face in his chest. To her _absolute_ horror, she blushed harder than when he had been studiously making love to her jst moments before. Gosh, she _hated_ it when he was right… For the most part.

She could still hear the tender smile in his voice as he brushed locks of hair away from the side of her face, leaning down to make her toes curl with his whispered confessions.

"Just so you know… Je t'aime, Cera. Et je veux passer ma vie avec toi."

Yes…

"What does that mean?" She sheepishly asked, peeking at him with curious golden irises that reminded him of rich amber.

"I love you, Cera. And I want to spend my life with you… Whether you learn French or not."

An affronted but muffled snort from her followed. But nevertheless…

"I love you too, Lelouch Lamperouge."


End file.
